Femistory
by Solanum Dulcamara
Summary: The women of GW deserve more credit than they often get. These are one shot fics about their pasts or their motivations. Please take the time to read and review!
1. Cornflake Girl: Sally

Standard Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine, nor are the characters. I'm not making money, etc. I also do not own the song Cornflake Girl. It is the property of Tori Amos. I don't own Tori either.  
  
  
Warnings: Sally POV, language, violence, NCS, verbal abuse, angst, a touch of sappiness, sarcastic humor  
  
A/N: I know a lot of people complain about the female characters of Gundam Wing. I for one think that they're all interesting in their own ways and each have their own kind of strength, but there are very few stories devoted to these women. So, I've created a loosely connected chain of hypothetical pasts. I hope you enjoy, and all comments are welcome.  
  
_blah_ = lyrics

Cornflake Girl   
By Solanum Dulcamara

I have always been an outcast. Since birth, I have never fit in. Somewhere along the way, I adopted it as my banner. Pretty pathetic not that it's shameful to be different. No, I just find it rather sad that my greatest identifying feature lay in how different I was or am from everyone else.  
  
_Never was a cornflake girl;_  
Thought that was a good solution.  
  
My father, Luo Li, was the leader of the largest rebel militia in China. That was his only redeeming quality that and he cared about my mother very much. He called her Mei.(1) I still don't know her actual name. She was his American bride I guess you could call it a match made by mail.  
  
When I was born, my father took one look at my pale coloring, scoffed, and named me RuoYing.(2) My mother called me Sally. Never expecting to be able to find me a suitable marriage, my father raised me as a soldier. By the time my younger sister, Sung, was born, I could use a rifle. I was four, and she was a curse and a blessing: the perfect Chinese daughter, but still a daughter. She was trained as much to be a gentle housewife as I was to be a soldier.   
  
_Hanging with the raisin girls,_  
She's gone to the other side.  
  
At seven, I could use high-power explosives and work our entire comm. system. At nine, I was driving the transport vehicles.  
  
_Giving us a yo heave ho._  
  
When I was ten, my mother fell ill, and my father didn't want to leave her side. He said, RuoYing, you will prove useful for once. Get the troops in their lines. I will be out shortly. Never one to disobey, it wasn't honorable, I was so naïve, I went out to face the men. I stood as tall as a 10-year-old girl can, when addressing an army of large men. They looked at me with no small amount of disdain. I knew that they hated me  
  
_Things are getting kind of gross._  
  
Hated the captain's daughter who had all of the same responsibilities as them. I rallied my courage, and said in a strong a voice as I could muster, Attention! Troops! Formation!  
  
They looked at me as if the luck dragon itself had crawled from my mouth. Then they laughed, some sneered, and some just shook their heads. One stepped forward. I knew him. His name was Lin. He was a new recruit, no more than 17, but he hated the little girl, as all good Chinese men hate females. He especially hated the little girl because she could show him up with any piece of artillery available to the militia. But as he stepped forward, this little girl was very aware of the size advantage seven years difference gave him. He scoffed, Shouldn't you be in someone's bed or something?  
  
_And I go, it's sleepy time._  
  
I fought to deep my teeth from grinding together, Get in line, Lin.  
  
Why should I listen to you?  
  
Because I am giving the captain's orders.  
  
Bah, they mean nothing when coming from your mouth.  
  
Get in line, Lin.  
  
My honed sense of awareness, informed me of the movement, but my 10-year-old reflexes did not allow me to get out of the way before his fist connected more than solidly with the side of my face.  
  
_This is not real_  
  
  
I immediately found my face in the dirt, as a result of the force of the blow. It hurt. God, my head was ringing, and I knew he was standing over me triumphantly. So, with the strength I could muster, I pushed to my feet. My head protested, but I stood, faced him, and said as calmly as possible, given my current state, Get in line, Lin. I saw the next blow coming, but I didn't expect it to hurt so much.  
  
_This this_  
  
I lay in the dirt, feeling the blood grow cold on my cheek. It hurt to even open my eyes; the world seemed far too bright. I wanted to just lay in the dirt, but my pride my damnable pride I'm sure it took a very long time for me to get up. One side of my face was swelling and I could feel my blood pulsing a slow trickle down my chin. The world seemed to dip and sway around me as I righted myself to face him again. Get in line, Lin  
  
He came at me. I tried to block his advances, but he was bigger, stronger, faster. Seven years advantage, and a healthy dose of pubescent testosterone will do that. I felt each time his fists struck me pain radiating from points all over my body.  
  
_This is not really happening._  
  
As I fell to the ground, I could hear the men; their laughter and jeers strangling me like a banshee's wail. The pain didn't stop. As I lay prone, the barrage of attacks didn't stop.  
  
_You bet your life it is._  
  
I kept hoping that I'd go into shock, so I'd no longer feel the pain or that he'd get tired of pummeling my unresisting body. I never begged never pleaded with him to stop.  
  
_You bet your life it is._  
  
As I began to pray for my death, I heard silence so loud, I thought my ears would bleed.  
  
_Honey, you bet your life_  
  
Then, I heard my father's bellowing voice, Troops! Formation! It was quickly followed by the hurried bustle of the men getting in their lines. And I felt his shadow move over me, and his voice, colder than the Himalayan winter, RuoYing, I give you one job, and you cannot even do that. And he left me.  
  
I felt a piece of me stripped away that day.  
  
  
_Peel off the watchword._  
  
  
A part of my soul died.  
  
_Just peel off the watchword._  
  
I wasn't stupid. I understood that what I had couldn't really be called a childhood. I also knew that even that wouldn't last very long. At 13, when my father started meeting with men, and they spoke in hushed voices, I knew that whatever my father was plotting would involve me.  
  
_She knows what's going on,_  
  
  
Several weeks before my fourteenth birthday, I was introduced to a man. His name was Wei Lo Long, he was 27, and I suppose, had I been older, I might have thought him to be handsome. His unusual ways caused him to become an estranged member of the renowned Long Clan. He had a little sister, who was apparently Sung's age.(3) Well, my father introduced me, and Wei gave me a leering once over and said, I'll take her What's your price?  
  
_Seems we got a cheaper feel now._  
  
Apparently, I, the oddity of my nomadic village, was about to become some part of his unusual ways. My father confirmed my suspicions that night, at dinner, RuoYing, you will be Wei Lo's bride on the day of your birth. Wonderful. I had barely hit puberty, and I was getting married. At least, I hadn't started my period yet. God forbid I bear that bastard's child. Being a late bloomer has its merits.  
  
It was time to put away the few things I enjoyed; talking to Sung on our mat at night helping my mother candy plums praying with my grandmother's jewelry box I had to be a woman.  
  
  
_All the sweeteaze are gone,_  
  
Sung couldn't understand that I, a girl really, not a grown-up like mama, was getting married. I didn't have the heart to tell her that the money that they made off of my sale was probably going to her dowry, to get her a good match. The four year age difference had never quite seemed so vast before.  
  
_Gone to the other side_  
  
At not yet 14, I have up my youth, or what little of it their was. No more military training no more dreaming of going my own way. I had always wanted to go to school no chance now.  
  
_With my encyclopedia._  
  
  
On my fourteenth birthday, I became Mrs. RuoYing Long, but I never stopped being Sally Po.   
  
I didn't really understand what occurred on a wedding night. I'd heard some of the men make jokes, but I didn't know what they were talking about. Like a good little Chinese girl, I was left in the dark.   
  
I was scared, so scared, when Wei took me into the bedroom. I didn't know what to do. He told me I was beautiful and stroked my hair. I tried so very hard not to recoil from his touch.  
  
_They musta paid her a nice price._  
  
Then, he put his mouth over mine and it felt very wrong. My stomach lurched and tears sprang to my eyes, but I didn't cry. I never cried. I pushed him off and he laughed at me. He smiled and it made my skin crawl, and he said, Be a good girl. Take off your clothes and get on the bed.  
  
  
I was horrified. I panicked and tried to leave, but he grabbed my arm and threw me onto the bed, growling, Do not dishonor your family. Be a good wife.  
  
_She's putting on a string bean love._  
  
Then he was over me, ripping at my wedding robes the wedding robes that had been my mother's. I tried to stop him, pushing his hands away, Please! Don't!  
  
_This is not real_  
  
He slapped me, hissing, Xiao chang!(4) Good. Fight. I'll enjoy you more. I struggled furiously as I heard the fabric giving way.  
  
_This this_  
  
And I lay there, naked and ashamed, pinned beneath his hulking body, and I could hear his pants unfastening. I cried out softly, shaking my head, And he smiled his repulsive smile, That's right. Beg for me.  
  
_This is not really happening._  
  
As I felt him huge and hard between my legs, I still didn't fully understand what was going happening. His disgusting lips were on me again and he was whispering, Scream for me, over and over. Then I felt pain, indescribable pain, ripping me inside out.  
  
_You bet your life it is._  
  
I cried. For the first time in my life, I cried. I pleaded with him to stop. He just grunted and slapped me, and continued the movements that sent blazing pain through my entire body.  
  
_You bet your life it is._  
  
His last thrust was so forceful, I screamed. He got what he wanted. Damn him. He collapsed on me, his hand roughly traveling over my body, his voice husky and lethargic, Huang chang, (5) you were good, and he passed out on me.  
  
_Honey, you bet your life_  
  
  
I wanted to die. My dignity, my pride, everything had been ripped away from me.   
  
_Peel off the watchword._  
  
My soul was in shreds. I didn't think there was much of me left.  
  
_Just peel off the watchword._  
  
I left that night while he was sleeping, only taking what I needed only what I needed, and my mother's robes. Every movement hurt. I had bled a lot. I didn't have time to wash, so I dressed as I was. The drying blood stained the inside of my pants. I burned those pants.  
  
_Rabbit, where'd you put the keys girl?_  
  
No matter how much it hurt, I kept going. I ran all night, and straight through the next day.   
  
_Rabbit, where'd you put the keys girl?_  
  
There, I found myself outside of a military operational post. They were skeptical to letting a 14-year-old girl enlist they were skeptical until I showed them what I could do with an M-16 while driving a jeep at 85 mph through heavy fire. That day, I enlisted as Sally Po. Did I mention that I also took the marriage license? That burned with the pants.  
  
  
_Rabbit, where'd you put the keys girl?_  
  
Within four years, I had graduated from the academy with a medical doctorate. I could do something good in the military; helping people, instead of destroying things, or so I thought. During the next year, I earned the rank of major. I quickly discovered that I not only disagreed with the politics of the Alliance military, I strongly disapproved of their ways.(6) But, they gave me protection when I needed it, school when I wanted it, and enough resources to start a rebel group to help free former China. So, it was with a light heart, that I bade a fond farewell to the Alliance.  
  
_Rabbit, where'd you put the keys girl?_  
  
Well, I didn't start the rebel group, but I'm pretty sure that they appreciated my joining them. The days were long: battles all day, patching up the men after battle, and working out tactics and strategy at night for the next day's excursions. If I slept, it was for 2 to 3 hours at the most. More often than no, I spent my few free hours thinking about everything that I didn't have time to think about during the heat and hustle of the day hours: my past, my mistakes, where I've been, and where I was. I couldn't say that I didn't enjoy my work. It's what I was bred to do, and I didn't have to get close to anyone. I didn't want to get close to anyone and then he showed up. He was arrogant, willful, and opinionated.  
  
_And the man with the golden gun thinks he knows so much, _  
  
_Thinks he knows so much._  
  
But behind it all, I saw a little boy a lost little boy who was getting his first real taste of the world. Bitter, isn't it? He challenged me, argued with me, listened to me, criticized me, and helped me.  
  
_And the man with the golden gun thinks he knows so much, _  
  
_Thinks he knows so much._  
  
After WuFei left our camp, I was rather shocked by how much I missed him. Many men have insulted me, but whenever he said anything critical, it was almost as if he was daring me to prove him wrong. He was headstrong and ballsy, willing to fight for lost causes he reminded me of someone else  
  
  
I met up with him again much later, when I had decided to give up my work in China, in order to help the Gundam pilots. Noin was a huge help in locating them we made a pretty good team, not the best but good. When we found him, he was as aloof as ever, and it irked and fascinated me. How could this guy be so cool at one minute and so fiercely passionate the next?   
  
  
Let me tell you, he did not change one iota throughout that war. Him and his pride his damnable pride why does that sound familiar? But he's no longer the broken boy. He is very much so a scholar searching out answers to satisfy his sense of justice. He proved his scholarly efforts the next year, when he researched the motives of the Marimeia faction during the Eve wars or so many thought. I was working with Noin and the Preventers to help stop the conflict. I hated involving the boys again, but they had already involved themselves. Funny that my code name at the time was water. Water cleanses I have never felt clean.  
  
While everyone saw the strength in WuFei's actions, the determination in his search,  
  
_And the man with the golden gun thinks he knows so much, _  
Thinks he knows so much.  
  
I saw a lost little boy, who saw no options for his future. So, when I had the chance, I offered him one. He accepted the offer of a job, and in some small indirect way, he accepted me into his life.  
  
We've been partners for just over two years, now. He's still arrogant, willful, and self-righteous,  
  
_And the man with the golden gun thinks he knows so much, _  
Thinks he knows so much.  
  
and I'm still prideful, headstrong, and defensive.  
  
_Rabbit, where'd you put the keys girl?_  
  
We make quite a team actually, we're the best team the Preventers have ever had.  
  
  
It's been an uphill battle. We are two extremely independent people who have had to learn to depend on each other. Somehow, WuFei's firmly rooted himself in my life, and I don't know what I'd do if he left. Probably erode away with the topsoil in a rush of water.  
  
_Rabbit, where'd you put the keys girl?_  
  
  
We both have painful pasts that are difficult to deal with, let alone talk about. It's very hard to open up to anyone, regardless of the fact that I trust him more than I've trusted anyone in my entire life including myself.  
  
_Rabbit, where'd you put the keys girl?_  
  
So much was taken from me when I was young, that I locked away what was left. I bandaged my soul, and I blockaded my heart, too scared to let them out for someone to tear apart again. I've guarded them so closely, for so long, that I'm no sure if I even know how to open up and let them out.  
  
_Rabbit, where'd you put the keys girl?_  
  
  
WuFei looks up at me from the report he's work on in our shared office with a raised eyebrow. Shit I didn't realize I'd been staring at him. Before I can say anything in my defense, he just smiles at me and goes back to his report. I sit for a moment, surprised, then turn back to my own paperwork, trying futilely to hide my own smile. I may not be able to find where I've hidden my heart, but I think that there's someone who can.  
  
  
  
(1): Mei is Chinese for pretty. What Sally doesn't also know is that her mother's given name was May. Her father just created an endearment that she didn't know about.  
  
  
(2): RuoYing is Chinese for frail flower.  
  
(3): I'm a personal believer in the small world theory. Wei Lo's little sister was Meiran Long. You may have heard of her. This is obviously my own creation.  
  
(4): Xiao chang is Chinese for little whore.  
  
(5): Huang chang is Chinese for beautiful whore.  
  
  
(6): This is a reference to the Episode Zero manga, in which Sally is sent as the leader of troops to destroy WuFei's colony through biochemical methods. She refuses. 


	2. Precious Things: Hilde

Standard Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and it's characters are not mine. I am not good enough to create them, I only borrow them. I also don't own Precious Things by Tori Amos. The song, quite obviously, belongs to Tori.  
  
Warnings: songfic, language, angst, potential heritage/gender/religion bitterness, Hilde's POV  
  
A/N: This is my second installment for the under-appreciated females on Gundam Wing. I just think that there are some kickass women on the show that don't get nearly the screen time or praise that they deserve. The stories are all completely hypothetical. They are my interpretations of what could be in their pasts. This is Hilde's story. Thank you all. I hope you enjoy. Feedback craved even flames, if you're too unimaginative to come up with any other form of criticism.   
  
_blah_ = lyrics

Precious Things  
By Solanum Dulcamara

I've had a life I can't really say it's been good or bad. I mean, what's a good life? A bad life? And who are we to judge? Besides, it's all relative, anyway, and just like any other life, it's had its ups and downs.   
  
  
I grew up in your standard middle class, German-by-heritage home on L2. Well, if it's on L2, it probably isn't middle class by most standards. Both of my parents worked full time to support our family and mine and my four older brothers' education at happy little Christian private school. Hell, my brothers practically raised me. Being the only girl in a family of five children does not incline one to the frillier side of life. From my first day of school, I was a product of my environment, and thus quicker, stronger, and tougher than most of the boys.   
  
_So I ran faster_  
  
  
It was the way I was raised, and it was, in fact, expected of me. When the house got calls that I had beaten up a boy in my class, my brothers were proud. This fact didn't bother me until I was older. Out of nowhere, it was like the world had finally cornered me to show me that I wasn't like any of the other girls I wasn't like a girl at all.   
  
_But it caught me here_  
  
  
I began to wonder if in my pseudo-nazi bootcamp childhood, my family had done me a great disservice. I didn't want to believe such a thing was possible, but upon evaluation my parents, although well meaning, were neglectful, and brothers had no idea what they were doing. Thus, it was born: bitterness. Not savory, believe me.  
  
_Yes my loyalties turned,_  
  
_like my ankle_  
  
  
There I was, prepubescent, and I didn't even know what body parts I was supposed to have. Don't get me wrong, I knew that I couldn't piss standing up or anything, but really though, a girl should not think she's dying the first time she gets her period.   
  
  
I really didn't have anyone to turn to for support. My parents were busy, don't even think I could talk to my brothers, and I didn't like the girls at school. I have never liked the girls at school. They were catty, cliquish, and dammit, they were pretty. But, honest to God, at the time, I didn't give a rat's ass about pretty. I was one of the guys. At 12 years old, I cared more about sports and mechanics than fashion or (dare I say it) boyfriends.  
  
_In the seventh grade_  
  
  
I didn't have many friends. Seriously though, like the midget girl with dike hair is going to win popularity contests. I had a best friend, though. We hung out all the time; wrestled, fished, played ball and tag. One day, while I was chasing him, why I don't remember, but I couldn't decide if, after I caught him, I would beat the ever-living shit outta him or kiss him.  
  
_Running after Billy_  
  
  
Where the hell did that come from and could I have been any more confused? So, I did what any unknowing, hormonal child would've done, I stopped. I just stopped right there, stopped and stood and felt a tidal of contradicting emotions. I didn't understand one bit of it. Neither did Billy. He left and I ran home to brood about my new discovery and awakening self-consciousness.   
  
_Running after the rain_  
  
  
Why doesn't anyone tell you the important things? Why at the one time in your life when you (to your own surprise) want to look the best, you look the most awkward? Is it all a cruel joke that could've been avoided if someone had told me it was coming? And why does my adolescence keep replaying in my mind as a cacophonous collage at the worst possible moments?  
  
_These precious things_  
  
_let them bleed, let them wash away._  
  
_These precious things  
  
Let them break their hold over me._  
  
  
Obsessed? That word does not even begin to describe the pedestal I proceeded to place Billy on. I did everything, everything I could to get him to pay attention to me make anyone pay attention to me. When the hell did I start caring what other people think? Oh, how cruel the court of public opinion can be.  
  
_He said you're really an ugly girl_  
  
  
Things changed between us there was no longer a friendship, there wasn't really an anything. But I wanted his approval so much. I came to the point where I'd do anything for his attention. He had these great ideas. He told me that if we tried them, he'd like me more. I wanted him to like me and I was 13 and no one had told me So I did.  
  
_ but I like the way you play_  
  
  
I hated myself more and more each day. And the more I hated myself, the more I adored him. I became a shell of a person; his little automaton.   
  
_And I died, but I thanked him_  
  
  
I venerated him, thought he had made me a woman. How fucking depraved.  
  
_Can you believe_  
  
_that sick, holding on to his picture_  
  
I became whatever he wanted me to be, when he wanted me to be it. Every time I looked into the mirror, I died, and every time I looked into his face, I was born again. I only ever felt alive when I was beneath him.  
  
_Dressing up every day_  
  
  
Billy came and went. Pun intended. They all do, and there were more. Dozens of arrogant little catholic schoolboys carrying their fathers' anger and desperate for someone to worship them like the God that they cling to. I hated who I was and had become, but more than that, I hated them and what they made me.  
  
_I wanna smash the faces_  
  
_of those beautiful boys, those Christian boys,_  
  
_So you can make me come,_  
  
_That doesn't make you Jesus_  
  
Oh the memories I can revel in the darkness I blot out with a smile. My father always used to say, Keep your chin up, Hilde, and show the world your pretty smile. I wonder if my father ever knew that I was one of the foremost sluts of my quaint little private school. My oldest brother, on the other hand, told me, Keep smiling. Sometimes it'll be the only defense you'll have in this shithole world. I'm just curious about how my brother's wisdom managed to surpass my father's, considering age and experience, of course. And if my brother was so full of knowledge, why didn't he tell me all of the things that my inept parents forgot?  
  
_These precious things_  
  
_let them bleed, let them wash away._  
  
  
That's how life is, I guess, and I can't complain. I've got a job and a place to call home. For the most part I'm really rather comfortable in my surroundings and most people wouldn't be considering I work for the most renown salvage company in the colonies. My eyes sweep over the junk yard, as I take inventory, and I have to wonder; will I ever stop running from my past?  
  
_These precious things_  
  
_let them break their hold over me._  
  
  
I can guarantee that they don't waist a bit of their memory on me. They all carry a bit of me with them, but they probably can't even recall my face, let alone tell you my name. I know every face, every name, and every callus, scar, and touch. I won't forget, I don't get that privilege.  
  
_I remember, yes_  
  
  
I still wonder why I felt that desperate need for a sense of belonging. And as much as I wanted to be cared for and noticed by the boys, I wanted to be liked and accepted by the girls. But the girls were worse, and nobody warned me.  
  
_In my peach party dress_  
No one dared, no one cared to tell me  
  
  
The boys used my body and stole bits of my soul, but the girls descended upon the remains like a pack of ravenous hyena, till I was sure that I could no longer be considered a person. They were ruthless and bloodthirsty, and no one's back was safe from a good stabbing. The most dangerous weapons can be good lipstick and a quick smile, and don't females know how to make each other crawl.  
  
  
_Where the pretty girls are_  
  
_those demigods_  
  
_With their nine inch nail and little fascist panties  
_  
_Tucked inside the heart of every nice girl_   
  
  
And I was no better than any of them.  
  
  
By 15, yes just 15, I desperately sought redemption. What I found was a war with a self-righteous cause that wore the guise of idealism and opportunity. I threw my heart into what seemed like a sincere struggle that promised every hope of my own baptism in the blood of the corrupt. I was an enthusiastic young soldier in a fight that I didn't understand. A haunted young soldier, whose mecha couldn't outrun her memories.  
  
_These precious things_  
  
_let them bleed, let them wash away._  
  
  
The war didn't offer redemption, it only added to my tainting. The fighting didn't stop the memories, it added to my pain.  
  
  
_These precious things_  
  
_let them break their hold over me._  
  
  
I'm glad I met Duo when I did. Our first conversation, and many to follow, were like a bitter pill, but even the worst tasting medicines will help you feel better in the end. He stuck with me, no one else has, and he never expects anything of me. I could kiss him for that alone, but as the two of us go over the inventory, and I see the same smile on his face that I've worn all my life, I absolutely love him. Duo always tells me, You know how they say to watch out for the quiet one's? Well, I think they should worry a little bit more about the smiley ones. They're the most likely to flip shit and blow up banks every single time. Common knowledge. Thank God someone understands me. He's the big brother I should've had.  
  
  
_These precious things_  
  
_let them bleed, let them wash away._  
  
_These precious things_  
  
_let them break their hold over me._  
  
  
Duo and I have talked a lot and shared a lot and learned a lot from each other, since we met. I showed him that no matter how embittered we may be, our laughter doesn't always have to possess a sarcastic edge, and he taught me not to fear or forget my past. It's part of who I am, and it's part of the puzzle that makes me human.  
  
_Precious_  
  
I suppose that one of these days, I'll learn how to treasure those tumultuous years when someone should've told me. Then, I won't resent that little girl, who still hides in me somewhere  
  
  
_Precious_


	3. Siren: Relena

Standard Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its character don't belong to me etc. I'm not getting paid for this I should only be so lucky. belongs to the ever-fabulous Tori Amos.   
  
Warnings: Not many extremely mild language, obssessivism, oh yeah, songfic, Relena's POV  
  
  
  
A/N: The next in the series. I hope this adds new possibilities to your perceptions of Relena. If you don't like it, too bad. This whole series is, of course, hypothetical, but personally, I like to play off of Relena's intelligence and portray her potentially conniving side.   
  
_blah_ = lyrics

Siren   
By Solanum Dulcamara

_And you know you're gonna lie to you_  
  
_In your own way._  
  
_And you know you're gonna lie to you_  
  
_In your own way._  
  
Lies: the fabric of my life. They weave my safety net and my noose. Have you ever felt strangled by life? I have as far back as I can remember. But I'll continue to live my life to live my lie because dying is much more frightening. Yes, I know that I offered Heero the opportunity to kill me many, many times but that was just a bit of a farce. I'd convinced myself that he wouldn't really kill me. I just wanted to see him and kept hoping that he wanted to see me more than kill me it was really very convoluted and foolish. So, I fell back on the lie I was raised on: pacifism. I wanted to be his lighthouse his idol. Of course I feigned nobility, humility, and acted as though I didn't want the positions thrust at me.  
  
  
_And I lie some other day._  
  
Are you criticizing me? Then, you're hypocrites.  
  
_You do_  
  
Or are you shocked that Relena Peacecraft can be dishonest? I'm human too, dammit! It seems that everyone forgets that.  
  
  
_And you say girl,_  
  
_Know too well_  
  
I grew up in a world of finery, delicacy, and deceit. A world where people impersonated warmth while biting their tongues and speaking with frost. A world where lies were as common as the jewels on ladies' necks and the Rolexes on gentlemen's wrists.  
  
_Know the chill_  
  
A world where your smile was as fake as your acting ability would allow. Good actor = good liar more lies. And we wore the masks wear the masks. You could be screaming crying dying but you did so on the inside.  
  
I did. I remember the day my safety net broke.. the day I put the noose around my neck.  
  
_Know she breaks_  
  
_My siren._  
  
He was beautiful. I was no more than pretty. He was passionate. I didn't give a damn. He was walking honesty. And I was a joke. I thought that if I attached myself to him, maybe I could absorb a little bit of what he was. I thought, maybe if I was just there enough, he could love me in a way that those of my shallow world are incapable. I thought, maybe when someone like him looked at me, he'd see a person maybe even a beautiful one.   
  
_Know teenage flesh_  
  
He was cold. He was hard. He promised to kill me.  
  
_Know the chill_  
  
And I welcomed it to die by his hand his sacrifice a purging.  
  
  
_Know she breaks,_  
  
_My siren._  
  
And he saw something in me enough so not to kill me. He even saved me. So, I wanted to be something for him, and I took up the battle against the war that was his life. If I took it away, he'd have nothing left but me. No one ever said I don't go after what I want.  
  
_Never was one for a prissy girl_  
  
Besides, being so involved in the war gave me more of a chance to keep tabs on him. I swear, I still look twice whenever I see a medical vehicle.  
  
_Coquette, call in for an ambulance._  
  
  
So, I gave my speeches and made my presentations, offering the world sphere the beautiful lie of world peace,  
  
  
_Reach high, doesn't mean she's holy_  
  
and all the while, I had multiple communication lines open, so I could immediately be notified of his every sighting and action.  
  
_Just means she's got a cellular handy._  
  
So, I'm not the paragon of virtue everyone thinks I am. What I was actually doing (trailing the world's most lethal terrorist) was really more dangerous than what the world sphere thought I was doing (being a diplomat standing against the powers that be). Who's going to call Relena Peacecraft a weakling now?  
  
_Almost brave_  
  
_Almost pregnant_  
  
_Almost in love_  
  
Believe me, I've heard what people say about me. I hear everything. But do you know what he said when he was leaving St. Gabriel's? He told me I remind him of  
  
_Vanilla_  
  
_Vanilla_  
  
And I lived my lie for him.  
  
_And you know you're gonna lie to you_  
  
_In your own way._  
  
_And you know you're gonna lie to you_  
  
_In your own way._  
  
And I made my journey, blindly through the pitfalls of politics. God, politicians are assholes. It often makes me wonder if, when my father wasn't home, he was an asshole.   
  
_And you don't need the light on _  
  
_To guide you through the southern lands._  
  
_Go, said go, yes._  
  
Perhaps that's why I hated Duo for so long he was everything I wasn't; beautiful, passionate, brazenly honest and close to Heero. And Duo, he always knew.  
  
_Know too well_  
  
There was no hiding it with him. And I expected the typical cold shoulder that a fraud like me deserves.  
  
_Know the chill_  
  
But he was always friendly. It kinda hurt. I almost wanted him to hate me. But he told me once, Relena, you just might hate who you are, but remember, you've inspired the masses, given the world something to believe in, and given Heero someone to fight for. Ain't gonna give up now, are ya? And dammit, he was right. I cried.  
  
_Know she breaks,_  
  
_My siren._  
  
That was when I realized what a selfish product of my environment I'd become, and I didn't like it.  
  
_Know teenage flesh_  
  
And amazingly enough, what Duo told me gave me a purpose; a safeguard against those soulless, war-mongering politicians.  
  
_Know the chill_  
  
Just like that, the world I knew shattered, and the noose around my neck unraveled, and I could breathe. It was terrifying.   
  
_Know she breaks,_  
  
_My siren._  
  
The once lie became a banner, which I carried with fervor,  
  
_Never was one for a prissy girl_  
  
and it became my healing process.  
  
_Coquette, call in for an ambulance_  
  
It still took me awhile to realize that total pacifism was unattainable.  
  
_Reach high, doesn't mean she's holy_  
  
In fact, it took kidnapping, another war, and the brave hearts of the men, who once again saved my ass, before I started to get achievable goals of world peace into my head.   
  
I still keep tabs on him, you know. Actually, I keep an eye on all of them.  
  
_Just means she's got a cellular handy_  
  
It's not often you get to meet your saviors. So, I'm going to keep fighting to maintain the peace they've brought to the world sphere.   
  
_Almost brave_  
  
_Almost pregnant_  
  
_Almost in love_  
  
And I'll keep trying to be  
  
_Vanilla_  
  
_Vanilla_


End file.
